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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25537609">It’s only the ocean and you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey'>justhockey</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety Disorder, Boys In Love, Caring Eddie Diaz, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Worried Evan "Buck" Buckley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:15:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25537609</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/justhockey/pseuds/justhockey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Buck has everything and he’s still a complete mess. He doesn’t deserve any of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>310</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It’s only the ocean and you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from <i>Only the Ocean</i> by Jack Johnson.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometimes Buck’s anxiety is like water simmering on the lowest heat on the stove. It’s quiet, barely there, nothing more than a mild inconvenience. On days like that Buck can push it to the far corners of his mind, pretend that it isn’t even there. </p><p>Other times it’s the roar of an entire ocean crashing down right on top of him, drowning him where he stands. It days like these when Buck can’t ignore it no matter how much he begs. It’s like a hand wrapping around his throat, closing his windpipe until he’s desperately gasping for breath. </p><p>It ebbs and flows, ever changing, ever moving. He never knows when it’s going to hit, if something will trigger it or if it will make an appearance for no reason at all. It’s unpredictable, which is probably the worst part. This isn’t something Buck can plan for. </p><p>Yesterday was okay, manageable. Today? It surrounds him entirely. It’s like a physical weight pinning him to the bed, he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. And he definitely doesn’t want to. The world feels scary today, too big and too busy, and there are so many things that could go wrong, ways for the people he loves to get hurt. Ways for <i>him</i> to hurt the people that he loves. </p><p>He pulls the covers up a little tighter, closes his eyes tight and tries to force out all the thoughts running through his mind. It’s not that he’s tired, exactly. Except for how he’s always kind of tired. He can feel it in the way his bones creak when he moves, on days like this the apartment is so silent he’s convinced he can hear them, too. </p><p>It’s harder now, Buck thinks. Now that he has people who care about him. Because now he has people who he can disappoint, who he can hurt when he gets like this. It’s not a choice, not a conscious decision to push people away, but when his anxiety is this bad he can’t seem to help it. It’s like he’s being dragged underwater by some immense force and he doesn’t want to take anyone down with him. </p><p>And of course, the people who love him refuse to let go, refuse to let him slip so far beneath the surface that he can’t find his way back. But. When he’s in the thick of it, he sometimes wishes they would just let him go. He’s grateful after, obviously. Beyond thankful that, through sheer stubbornness, they refuse to let him drown. But when the water is filling his lungs he just feels like too much of a burden, dead weight that they’d be better off without. </p><p>He can hear his phone ringing from somewhere downstairs, but even if Buck wanted to answer it, he wouldn’t be able to get up. The noise is faint anyway, far enough away that it doesn’t really bother him. He lets it’s ring off, and again, and then again. He doesn’t have work today so it’s not like it’s an emergency. The world will be just fine without him. </p><p>Buck must have fallen asleep again at some point, because the next time he opens his eyes it’s to the sound of his apartment door closing. His chest becomes impossibly tighter for a fleeting moment, and then -</p><p>“Buck?” Eddie’s voice sounds from downstairs. </p><p>He lets out a breath but doesn’t reply, stays absolutely motionless in the hopes that Eddie will assume he’s not home and just leave. Except Buck knows that his truck is parked outside and Eddie isn’t a complete idiot. He hears Eddie call out his name again, and then footsteps on the stairs up to the loft. </p><p>Buck closes his eyes and holds still, tries to keep his breathing regular enough that Eddie will think he’s sleeping and go home. But he’s way more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for. He hears Eddie sigh, then the sound of keys being placed on his dresser and the rustling of a jacket being taken off. </p><p>“I know you’re awake,” Eddie says. </p><p>And then before Buck can even move, Eddie is climbing under the covers and slotting in behind him, throwing an arm over Buck’s waist and pulling him back into his chest. Eddie presses a gentle kiss to the patch of skin where Buck’s neck and shoulder meet. Most days it would be so achingly tender, today it just feels like too much pressure to be okay. </p><p>“You should go,” Buck whispers, his voice croaky. </p><p>Eddie just squeezes him tighter. </p><p>“Not going anywhere, Buck,” Eddie replies. </p><p>He wants to cry so badly he bites the inside of his cheek until he can taste blood. He <i>hates</i> this. Hates when Eddie is soft and gentle and understanding. It makes Buck feel sick with guilt. Because, <i>fuck</i>, surely he should be okay? He gets to have this. An incredible boyfriend with an equally incredible son, a wonderful group of friends, his brand new little niece, everything. </p><p>Buck has everything and he’s still a complete mess. He doesn’t deserve any of it. </p><p>“I’ve got you,” Eddie promises.</p><p>Buck cries then. It’s not the loud, full-body sobs he sometimes gets, he just lets the tears quietly fall. His chest hurts and his hands are shaking, and Eddie holds them against Buck’s chest, underneath his own steady hand. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Buck says. </p><p>Eddie kisses his cheek. “You have nothing to apologise for.”</p><p>“You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”</p><p>“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Eddie reassures him. </p><p>Buck squeezes his eyes shut again. </p><p>“You’re just wasting your time,” Buck argues. </p><p>He always does this. He becomes so convinced that he’s not worth it, that everyone is going to leave eventually anyway, that he decides to push them away first. Buck thinks it’ll hurt less if he’s the one who makes them go, but the way his heart clenches in his chest every time he pushes proves that wouldn’t be the case. </p><p>“You’re never a waste of my time, mi amor,” Eddie replies. </p><p>He’s so patient every time and Buck doesn’t know how or why, has no idea what he could have possibly done to deserve this kind of love from a man like Eddie. </p><p>They lay in silence, Eddie holding Buck’s shaking hands and breathing deeply, his nose and lips pressed against Buck’s neck. It’s soothing, the way he can feel Eddie’s heartbeat against his back. He tries to breathe deeper and slower, tries to match the rhythm of his heart to Eddie’s. Things are always better when they’re in sync anyway. </p><p>He still has the urge to say something stupid, to try and get Eddie to leave, but he doesn’t. And it might not be a lot, but it’s progress. Enough that he turns onto his other side so he’s facing Eddie. He can’t look at him yet, he still feels too much like a burden, but Buck buries his face into his chest and focuses on the patterns Eddie has started to trace on his back. </p><p>Eddie smells like soap and oatmeal, and suddenly Buck’s mind is on Christopher. Christopher who he was supposed to make pancakes for this morning and then take him to school with Eddie. Buck’s whole body tenses. He’d let Chris down and yet, somehow, Eddie was still here with him. </p><p>“Is Chris okay?” Buck asks. </p><p>Eddie presses a kiss into Buck’s hair before he replies. </p><p>“He’s fine baby, I told you him you were sick.”</p><p>“‘M not sick,” Buck mumbles. </p><p>Because he’s not. He’s perfectly healthy. There’s no legitimate reason why he can’t just get out of bed and go about his life like every other normal person. </p><p>But Eddie just continues to hold him, uses one hand to play with Buck’s messy curls and lets his fingers dig into his scalp, turning Buck’s bones to jello. </p><p>“Buck, we talked about this,” Eddie says. “Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”</p><p>“I know,” Buck whispers. </p><p>He does. Eddie tells him enough, his therapist tells him even more. It still feels like a cop out sometimes though, like it’s just an excuse because Buck can’t get it together.</p><p>“Maddie and Chim and the baby, they’re okay too, right?” Buck asks. </p><p>It’s just to make sure. He knows realistically they’re fine, but still. Sometimes on the bad days, days like today, his mind runs away from him. It likes to show him every possible, terrible scenario involving the people he loves, like a private screening of a horror movie where the cast is made up entirely of his friends and family. </p><p>“Talked to Chim earlier, they’re all fine, the little one’s lungs <i>definitely</i> work,” Eddie laughs. </p><p>Buck feels his body relaxing again, and he feels suddenly, infinitely grateful for Eddie. The man who has been his harbour during every storm, his anchor when Buck has started to drift, his solid ground when he can’t catch his breath. He’s been everything for Buck, without ever asking for anything in return, without ever complaining. He just does it. </p><p>“Thank you,” Buck says. </p><p>Eddie hums, as if asking <i>what for?</i> And Buck shrugs, because he doesn’t know how to put it all into words. But Eddie pulls back a little, holds Buck’s jaw gently and tilts his head up so they’re looking at each other. Eddie is smiling but Buck can see the question in his eyes. </p><p>“For loving me,” Buck answers. “For loving me when I don’t deserve it, and even though you get nothing back in return.”</p><p>Eddie’s eye widen, but then his face darkens and Buck instantly worries that he’s said something wrong. He opens his mouth to speak but Eddie beats him to it. </p><p>“Is that what you think?” Eddie asks, pulling away from Buck so he can sit up. </p><p>Buck follows suit, sitting up beside Eddie.</p><p>“Buck, baby, you really think I don’t get anything back from you?”</p><p>Eddie watched him in disbelief, like Buck has just started speaking Latin and Eddie doesn’t have a clue what he’s saying. He thinks he’s done something wrong, but then Eddie is leaning forward and kissing him even though Buck knows he still has morning breath. </p><p>“Evan, fuck, you give me <i>everything</i>, okay?”</p><p>Buck shakes his head. “Eddie look at me, I’m-“</p><p>“Amazing? Incredible? The love of my life?” Eddie suggests. “You have bad days, sure, but Buck, we <i>all</i> do, and you’re getting help for it. It doesn’t stop you from being the most considerate, loving, selfless person I’ve ever known. Being loved by you is <i>not</i> nothing Evan, it’s everything.”</p><p>Buck can feel himself blush. He thrives off praise, off knowing he’s done a good job and making people happy, but when Eddie says things like this to him, so easily like it’s not a massive fucking deal, Buck never knows how to respond. </p><p>He tries to duck his head or turn away but Eddie won’t let him. He holds onto either side of Buck’s head and looks directly into his eyes. </p><p>“You <i>always</i> deserve my love,” Eddie tells him. </p><p>And it’s a hard thing to hear sometimes, because that hasn’t always been the case for Buck, people haven’t always deemed him worthy of their love. But Eddie does, and Buck is starting to believe it a little more each day. </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Okay?” Eddie asks, and he sounds so hopeful. </p><p>“Okay,” Buck repeats, and then leans in to kiss him. </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <b>——————-</b>
  </p>
</div><p>They stay in bed for another hour or so. They mostly lie there in silence, just appreciating being in each other’s company without an alarm or a demanding nine year old to disturb them. They talk a little too, though. Mostly just small, insignificant things that don’t really matter. But with every second that passes Buck slowly feels the tightness in his chest start to loosen, his hands stop trembling, his heart beat a little steadier. </p><p>Just before noon Eddie coaxes him out of the bed with the promise of ordering sushi for lunch. Buck changes into a t-shirt that he hasn’t slept in and follows Eddie down the stairs and into the kitchen. </p><p>Eddie smiles sweetly as he hands Buck a glass of water. It’s cold in his hands and he can feel the condensation collecting in droplets on his skin. He takes a sip and it’s cold, refreshing. Buck breathes in deeply and smiles back at Eddie. </p><p>The tide has started to recede and Buck’s feet are firmly on solid ground again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is me projecting all of my issues onto Buck and using the immensity of the ocean as a metaphor for anxiety so sorry if it seems ooc!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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